A World Askew
by HolographicScorpio
Summary: Somehow Dumbledore thought the Dursleys would be good for him. Somehow he thought abuse would raise a good kid. Somehow, he thought he wouldn't be wrong. The Boy-Who-Lived didn't escape the Dursleys unscathed- somedays, it seemed like he never escaped at all... This is the story of a child's world; one most never realized wasn't quite alright until it all went horribly wrong...


**This is a little experiment I'm doing. This is only a short prologue to what I'm thinking might be a much longer story. The subject of this little plot bunny is the psychology of [SPOILER]. Okay, it wouldn't be that big of a spoiler as I come out and say it at the end of this chapter. But still, why not keep you guessing for the prologue? I have yet to decide exactly what POV the story will be in or if there will be any pairings in the story.**

 **If someone with background knowledge of psychology would like to Beta this for me, I'd really appreciate it. The only real knowledge I have of this subject is what I've read but I find it really fascinating. Out of respect for those who actually suffer from these disorders, I'd like to keep this as realistic as possible. Which means that if I got something wrong, I WANT YOU TO TELL ME. I won't get offended as it will help both me and this story. I have decided not to explain his disorders yet, unless you're my Beta so you can advise me on my story. The rest of you will be left guessing.**

 **Please review and thank you all for your time.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I own nothing in this story except for the setup and ideas. I hereby declare I have no experience with psychological disorders in real life beyond what I've read; as such, I apologize in advance if my portrayal of such issues is off and will humbly except any criticism that will help improve the error.**

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 **"Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle."**

 **~Lewis Carroll, _Alice in Wonderland_**

 **PROLOGUE: WHO AM I?**

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He looked over his shoulder, glancing around him. He was lucky he had baggy clothes- granted, he was never wanting in that area but he was half afraid he would be changed into better form fitting clothes. He looked over his shoulder two more times, three of his fingers drumming on his leg. Running a hand through his black hair, he glanced over the food in hunger. Why the fuck he wasn't fed right he never knew.

Fingers running a few times along the shelf, he slipped three candy bars, Three Musketeers to be precise, into his sleeve. With a sigh, he walked towards the entrance. One step, two steps, three; The person behind the counter didn't notice a damn thing. Fourth step, fifth, now six. Head down, blinking a few times, he cracked his neck thrice as he exited the gas station.

Frowning at the moon that was getting ever closer to the horizon, he figured it was getting close to dawn. Fucking A, why the hell did time pass so quickly when he was stealing? At least his anxiety was gone now- he had been totally freaked out earlier. Tch, whatever. Eyes down focused on the ground, he strode quickly along the sidewalk, feet stepping on three cracks in it before avoiding another.

A nearby building had a clock and the black-haired boy swore under his breath. It was 4:09. Fuck, he had missed his usual time. A small tentacle of fear wrapped around his hungry stomach. Slowing, he took a few breathes to calm himself. He'd just have to get back and put his loot in it's place a little later than usual. Hopefully he didn't have one of his damn blackout episodes before then.

The boy neared his home- or at least the building he considered his home for now. He wiped his feet on the mat a few times before carefully cracking the door open. Slipping in, he went over to his cupboard, the place he was stashed at night. He licked his lips a few times before heading in. The black haired boy pulled out his three candy bars, arranging them in a triangle. Finally, fucking some decent food.

Steps were heard above him and he froze, taking in a few ragged breaths, his eyes shutting. His shoulders slouched as he seemed to shrink on himself, though in all reality he stayed the same height. When the black-haired boy's eyes opened, the fire in them had died; the brilliant furnace of green in them was gone, replaced by a mellow and broken color. He stretched a bit, yawning before his eyes landed on the candy bars.

He froze, suddenly terrified of what was before him, his tongue licked his cracked lips. No, no, he couldn't eat those; he mentally pushed away the tendril of hunger pulling at his stomach as he hastily threw a cover over the candy. Breathing hard, he calmed himself but his brain quietly whispered into his ears, asking him where the candy had come from, what if he had been eating things while he was asleep, what if he gained anymore weight.

Hands flying to his mouth, he attempted to keep himself from vomiting up on the spot. It did not help though, his head woozy as he fell over onto his side, quietly heaving into his hands, his eyes closed shut and blurred with tears. Luckily or unluckily, it was a dry heave, his stomach empty of contents after he had starved himself yesterday to help cut back on the food he was eating. The boy struggled, mentally screaming even as he stayed silent to keep from waking his relatives.

Whoever had been downstairs went back up the steps, the door closing shut somewhere above him. A quiet groan escaping from his aching lips, the young boy held his stomach, trying to keep the growling sounds quiet as much as possible. His vision swam and his head grew fuzzy as he laid his head on the ground, quietly crying his as his world seemingly went black for a moment.

He bolted up with a start, his head banging into the top of the cupboard. Fucking blackouts, they always came around at the worst possible time. The fiery eyes of the boy flickered around his small cupboard three times, becoming more and more frantic as he looked for them. Dammit, where'd his candy go? Throwing his blanket off, hands blurring as he searching, his hands eventually found his food. He whimpered a bit as he saw them scattered before growling. Fuck the candy, fuck the triangle.

He quickly undid the wrappers for his candies, lining them all up in a neat row in front of them. He opened his mouth wide so he could eat all of the bars at once. Teeth crushing the bars between them, he thoughtfully chewed, foot tapping a song, brain chugging along to it. Hakuna Matata, Hakuna Matata, Hakuna Matata, Hakuna Matata, Hakuna Matata, Hakun-

Banging footsteps could be heard on the wooden floors of the house and the boy had barely managed to swallow his food as panic filled him again. Shit, shit, shit, Una Matata; he shook his head as his vision swam again, his shoulders drooping from their previous hunched position. His dull eyes groggily looked around before jumping in his seat as a voice screeched through the door, "Boy! Get up! Get up and start making breakfast! It's my sweet Duddykins birthday and it better be perfect!"

With a sigh, the boy got up, eyes missing the three wrappers sitting to his left as he stooped to pull himself out of his cupboard. Outside of it he stood up, cracking his neck a bit as he did so. His Aunt began screeching again so, with a pained sigh, Harry Potter moved to help get breakfast ready for his cousin's special day.

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 **"Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable."  
~Voltaire**


End file.
